The Letter
by macisgate
Summary: He can't help but feel shocked as for the first time since they've met, she's eyeing him like a threat, someone she can't speak freely with. Emancipation Tag. COMPLETE.
1. Part 1 - Jack

The Letter

Spoilers – Emancipation

Season – 5, but no spoilers other than Emancipation

Part 1 - Jack

"Carter, hold up," Jack O'Neill calls out as he jogs to catch up to his 2IC.

Sam slows down and waits for him. He notices that she doesn't look happy to see him which only confirms his suspicion that something is wrong. He's supposed to be doing paperwork, but a certain piece of paper is the reason he's here, chasing her down through Cheyenne Mountain.

"You headed off base?" he asks as he joins her to walk down the hallway toward the elevator.

"Yeah, thought I'd use up a couple personal days, sir." She smiles quickly, like she's meeting a requirement, and then it disappears.

"Good, good…" He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I just want to make sure before you leave that you're okay. You know… after the letter…"

"I'm fine," she says a little too quick. "Thank you for asking, sir. It was nice of them to send it," she offers like she's talking about a postcard.

His heart feels like it's going to beat right out of his chest. He's always considered himself to be brave – until now. He's never dealt with this sort of thing before. Part of him wants to turn around and leave this conversation alone, but he knows if he does that, he will always wonder.

_Now or never, _Jack tells himself.

They reach the elevator, and Sam moves a hand up to push the arrow.

"Carter, just… wait." Jack covers her hand with his.

Her face flushes with frustration, maybe anger, which only confirms that he's made the right call.

"Come to my office?" He passes up the opportunity for a quip about knowing _where_ his office is.

"Is it something that can wait till Monday?" She tries to pull her hand away, but he grips it tightly. He's afraid if he lets go, something will be lost.

"No, I don't think it can." This conversation should have happened four years ago. It's long overdue, and that's his fault.

She pulls at her hand again, and this time he lets go hesitantly.

She's too good of a soldier to deny his command. He can see the reluctance in her body language, but she follows him further down the corridor and enters his office.

"Have a seat, Carter," he offers.

"I'd rather stand", she says, glancing at the door. As though standing means this will be a quick chat so she can get out of there. He hates that being alone in an office with him feels like a trap to her today. It's not supposed to be that way, not with them.

"Carter… sit." Commands seem to be the only thing working in this conversation.

He doesn't comment when she pulls out the chair and takes a seat on the edge of it, ready to leave as soon as she can.

He doesn't know where to begin. "Carter… it's been what, four years? Since Simarka?"

He watches her tense even more as the subject matter of their conversation is confirmed.

"Yes sir."

"And today their government sent you a formal letter of apology for the hardships you endured while on their planet. A letter from their new chief who also happens to be a woman."

"That's correct, sir".

"Carter… Sam… that letter. It indicated a lot more _hardship_ than I was expecting." He stops there, willing her to start speaking. To say more than three words in a row. To deny what he's afraid of. He really wants to be wrong about this.

But she doesn't. Like she's weighing her words, calculating them. He can't help but feel shocked as for the first time since they've met, she's eyeing him like a threat, someone she can't speak freely with. It reminds him of when Jolinar took over her body.

"When we got back from that planet, you told me you were fine. But their letter-"

"Their letter," Sam interrupts him, "It's just a political move to secure allies during the changes to their governing system." Her eyes meet his, full of challenge. He knows he needs to dial back, take her side, or she'll clam up again.

He smiles lightly. "They did use a lot of big words," he offers. She gives a very small smile, not quite the smirk he was going for. "I know they didn't give details, but they indicated an… assault… of some kind." He can barely speak the words. _Assault_ being the gentler term for something so horrible.

"If there was an assault of some kind-" he continues.

"There wasn't," she interrupts again.

"But _if_-"

"_If_ there was, then… my report from that mission would contain false statements, and information would have been withheld. I could be court-martialled." The challenge in her eyes shifts, and he recognises pleading when he sees it. Pleading that he will drop this conversation, drop his conclusions and concerns, drop her so she can deal with this by herself.

"Carter, I'm not… That's not… Nobody wants to court-martial you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I told you I'm fine."

"I don't think that's true."

"Sir… it's been four years. I'm fine. My report from that mission is fine. Everything's fine. I'm sorry if that letter made you think otherwise. Can I go now? I have plans." She makes a move to stand, but he waves her back down.

"Look, I get how the military is-"

"With all due respect, sir, you don't – not this part of it." Now he knows his twisting gut was right. The letter in all it's flowery words and careful phrasing was right. "And one report that's inaccurate would put all my reports under the microscope. Mission reports that are combed over by the highest levels of our government."

"Carter, the last thing on my mind right now is the accuracy of a report from four years ago. What _is _on my mind is you. Have you talked to someone?"

She looks away, and he knows the answer to his question is a _no_.

"Sir, there's nothing to talk about. I told you I'm fine. Nothing happened."

She's lying to his face, and he can tell. It hurts him more than he cares to admit.

"Carter, your face is telling me differently," he counters gently.

"Sir, you're the 2IC of this base. _If_…"

"I think we're past _If's_ at this point."

"_If…_ something had happened on that planet that wasn't in my report, and I admit it, then I'm putting you in a corner. You'd have to report it, whether you want to or not."

He wants to deny it, to assure her that her secrets are safe with him. But she's right. Maybe not today, maybe never, but he could someday be under oath, discussing these missions. And what he doesn't know, what he can't get her to confirm, can stay safely unsaid, without putting either of their careers at risk.

"This is wrong, Sam. You're paying for a decision you made back when SG1 was new. We hardly knew what we were doing. We hardly knew each other. If something like this happened today…"

"Today is different," she acknowledges. "And _hypothetically_, a person in that situation might choose to handle it differently if they had a team… a _family_… as strong as SG1 to rely on."

"But they didn't," he finishes for her. "Not then." And now it's his turn to face defeat.

She can tell he's given up, and her gaze softens. "But that hypothetical person really hopes you understand, sir. That she truly is okay. She just needs a couple days to sort it all out in her head."

"And will this hypothetical person promise to talk to someone? Anyone? Minus any _alien planet_ parts."

He hates this. Hates that she didn't get the help she needed, back when she needed it the most. And now she can't even talk about it to those closest to her because of the possible repercussions. None of this was ever any of her fault, but she's the one paying the price.

He watches her hesitate, knows she doesn't want to promise. But to his surprise, she forces out, "Okay."

"You know I'm always here if you change your mind, right? If you ever want to talk? Even if it's all just _hypothetically_."

"I know, sir."

"Wait," he stops her as she stands to leave. He reaches in his desk, digs around for a moment, and pulls out an old business card from the back of a drawer. "I don't know if she's still in the area, but this is a therapist that I went to a couple times," he blushes. "After Charlie. It helped."

She carefully takes the card from his hand. "Okay," she says again. "Wait… does General Hammond…"

"No," he assures her. "I think I picked up on it because of being on that planet with you. Seeing what Turghan was like. Little things I should have figured out sooner. The General never said anything."

She nods, and then she's gone, and he's alone in his office.

_How did we get it so wrong_? he asks himself. He leans back and scrubs his hands over his eyes feeling tired and frustrated. _How did we not realize what happened?_ He gives up trying to figure it all out tonight and stands up to stretch. Cake sounds like a good idea right about now. He rounds the desk just as Daniel bursts in, Teal'c standing stoically beside him.

One look at Daniel's face, and a quick glance at the paper in his hands, and Jack knows what's coming next.

"Jack, we need to talk."


	2. Part 2 - Daniel

The Letter

Part 2 – Daniel

Daniel's hands clench the steering wheel. His jaw is tight, and he has to keep blinking his eyes to keep them clear.

_Four years. _How could this have happened. To SG1. To them.

Four years she's been living with such a horrible secret, trying to deal with it on her own.

Jack told him they couldn't say anything, that it's what Sam wanted. _It's not right,_ he keeps thinking. _Nothing about this is right._ He just wants to make it right.

He'd read the letter from the Shavadai more than once, hoping that he was misinterpreting their phrases and expressions. He almost dismissed it because it seemed so impossible. _Our sincerest apologies and regret for the actions of our former chieftan, for the mistreatment you endured at his hands._ That word _mistreatment_… he'd heard it before on their planet, on a return trip he took with SG-5 to assist with instructing the locals in legal systems and government. It's how they referred to rape on their world.

He pulls up in front of her house, preparing to throw Jack's words of caution aside. She'll talk to him. He's sure of it. That's what they do, Daniel and Sam – they talk. _Except she didn't, not about this. For four years…_ He sits back with a heavy sigh and takes in the house and yard he's been to so many times since that day. If he knocks on the door demanding answers, offering words, she will be defensive, feeling like her wishes were ignored. She told Jack she needed a couple days alone. But if he doesn't? Will she feel like they don't care? Like he didn't want to reach out?

_The grass is getting long_, he notices.

And that's when he realizes that words don't really matter at this point anyway. He needs to choose a different way to communicate in this case – a different language.

He gets out of his car and moves to her open garage, pulling out the lawn mower. One fierce pull, and it roars to life. Back and forth he goes, left to right. Front yard then back yard. Time melts as he starts to sweat in the humidity.

When he finishes, he puts the mower away and takes out the trimmer, finishing off the edges.

_The hedges are getting a little long…_ He grabs the clippers and starts in. Then he gets the rake to gather up all the dead grass and bits of shrub.

By the time he's finished, the heat, sweat, and hard work have left him feeling cleansed and exhausted.

The front door creaks open, and he looks up to see Sam standing on the steps with two glasses of lemonade in her hands.

Now is his chance, but his words are completely gone, his chest heavy with grief.

"Want to sit with me?" she asks. He nods a yes, and they sit down on the steps together.

"You were out here a long time. You okay?"

He turns an anguished face to meet her gaze and shakes his head.

"The Colonel called and told me you might be by. I wish…" she looks down at the condensation forming on the glass. "I can't talk about it, Daniel. I… don't _want_ to talk about it."

"I know," he finally speaks.

"I'm really okay. Maybe not at first, obviously. But you don't have to worry about me." She gives his arm a gentle squeeze.

"There's got to be something I can do. I just want to make this right."

She smiles at him and motions to the immaculate yard. "I think you've done enough for today."

"You know what I mean. It's my fault-"

Sam holds up a hand to stop him. "That's not true."

"I was the one who pushed for us to stay on that planet."

"Daniel, trust me, there's only one bad guy in this story. And it isn't you."

"We let you down."

"Daniel, please… don't take this on yourself. Things were different back then. I didn't feel like I had a choice. Being a woman in the military, assigned to such an important team – you have no idea what that's like, the pressure I felt to be perfect."

"I know you can't talk about what happened exactly, not in details. But I hope you know that we're here for you. We weren't back then, but… we are now."

She grabs his grubby hand in hers and twines her fingers through his. "I know."

They sit in silence for a while, taking in the smell of freshly cut grass. Two talkative friends hushed by a secret shared. When he gets up to leave, he feels it only fair to warn her.

"Teal'c might be by later. I know you want some space, but…"

"It's okay. He can come." She walks with him to his car. "Drive safe," she warns. He must look like a mess. But while he came to bring her comfort, he finds himself driving away being the one to feel better.


	3. Part 3 - Teal'c

The Letter

Part 3 – Teal'c

The drive to Sam's house is awkwardly silent. Jack tries once to start a conversation with Teal'c.

"So what are you going to say, T?"

Teal'c stiffens and maintains his gaze straight ahead. "O'Neill, I am respecting Major Carter's request for silence. I do not wish to discuss this matter with you further."

"Okay… want to tell me what's in the bag?" Jack motions to the tote bag at Teal'c's feet.

"I do not."

Teal'c's outwardly calm demeanor closely matches his inner demeanor. He is much older than the other members of SG1, and while the discovery of Sam's secret is unsettling, his years of experience keep him from feeling shocked. Saddened, yes. Disheartened, also yes. But not shocked.

They pull up in front of Sam's house, and Teal'c exits the vehicle. Jack calls out the window to him, "Let me know when you want me to pick you up."

"I will, O'Neill."

Teal'c pauses and takes in the neatly trimmed lawn, the smell of fresh-cut grass, the setting sun casting an orange glow over the area. A peaceful sight. And _peace_ is why he's here this evening, what he hopes to bring to his friend.

Teal'c walks to the door and rings the doorbell. Sam opens the door and smiles softly when she sees him.

"Hey Teal'c. Daniel said you might be by. Come on in," she motions.

Teal'c nods, and enters her space, pausing in the entryway. "I do not wish to betray your need for silence, Major Carter. I will speak nothing of the matter, you have my word."

"Thank you, Teal'c. I appreciate that."

"I have come to prepare a meal for you. With your permission, I will make use of your kitchen."

"Uh, sure?" Sam looks confused. "I didn't realize you could cook."

"I have watched many cooking shows during our down time. I am quite proficient," he assures her.

"Of course, that's… okay." She shows him to her kitchen.

"I don't have a lot of supplies," she apologizes.

He motions to the bag he's carrying. "I have everything I require. Please sit," he indicates a counter stool that she can sit on while watching him cook.

In his experience, trauma, or the remembrance of it, took away one's appetite. But lack of food only made matters worse as physical weakness magnified negative emotions. Glancing at the woman near him, he can tell that she has likely missed lunch and perhaps breakfast as well. Dark circles are under her eyes, and she looks weary – after only one day of having her secret unintentionally shared among the members of SG1. She seems lost in thought as she watches him cooking a tomato sauce and pasta, lulled by the homey scene and ancient practice of preparing and sharing food.

Teal'c ponders when someone might have last cooked for the major. She has freely admitted to not being much of a cook herself. Her mother had died while she was young with her father frequently away. She likely had taken care of herself with take-out menus and microwaves. Something the cooking shows he watched indicated was not up to standard.

And so he will do this for her. Prepare a meal, care for her as a parent would. As a friend would. He will relieve her of these basic needs so that she can rest and process her emotions.

Teal'c places two plates full of pasta and a creamy tomato sauce on the table, pours them both a glass of water, and then sets out two small plates of a tossed salad.

"I am ready, Major Carter. Please join me."

She appears sore and stiff as she gets off the stool to join him at the table. The tension from the last 24 hours finally showing its wear on her body.

She carefully lifts a forkful to her mouth – to be polite despite her lack of appetite he presumes. But then she takes another bite and another. Teal'c feels pleasure at sharing his new skill and starts in to enjoy the meal himself.

Finally, when her plate is empty, she speaks. "Teal'c, I had no idea you could cook like that. I've never had anything so delicious."

"Thank you, Major Carter. If you are finished, may I please request that you change into more comfortable clothing. I wish to lead you in a meditation."

He watches her debate silently to herself. To meditate would leave her mind open and vulnerable. But his intention is not to open old wounds. Rather, he wishes to sooth them.

"Please, Major Carter. I will wash the dishes while you do so."

Although reluctantly, she nods and leaves to do as he says. He can tell, despite her reluctance, that she is curious.

Washing up doesn't take long, and as he finishes, she returns wearing exercise capris and a sweatshirt.

"Please drink more water as I prepare your living room." He hands her a glass, not explaining that water is not part of the meditation. He's simply trying to provide hydration – something that has also been let go in the last 24 hours.

From his bag, he pulls out a candle and places it on her coffee table, lighting it. Then he places two mats on either side, one for each of them. He returns to the kitchen area. "I am ready, Major Carter."

"I've actually never meditated before, Teal'c. I'm not sure what to do."

"I will assist you. Please sit in a comfortable position on the mat."

Sam sits cross-legged, eyes tired but alert. He can tell she is uncomfortable, but he knows this will help. He joins her on the floor.

"Please keep your eyes closed, and focus on the sound of my voice. If closing your eyes is uncomfortable, please focus on the flame. The words I speak will be words of comfort and healing, they will be words of hope for the future. This meditation is from my home planet of Chulak. I will do my best to translate it properly into English. When I am done, we will remain in silence until you are ready. Try for as long as you can, losing yourself in the meditation, allowing the words to enter your mind and soul."

Sam nods and watches him closely until he indicates the candle, and she moves her gaze to it.

She is obviously tense, but she is trying which is everything he had hoped.

"I will begin."

_Take a slow deep breath in, and exhale gently._

_Bring your awareness to your heart. As you breath in and out, visualize your heart gradually opening. You may feel or sense your heart opening. Feel your heart filling with light and love as strongly as you can. Allow the love to heal your heart now of any past hurts._

_If you have any pain or unease in your body, visualize this love travelling to the area to heal it completely. Visualize this part of your body healing now._

_Visualize this love expanding out from your heart and permeating every cell of your being. A feeling of love and peace washes over you._

_You may feel emotions rising to the surface. Allow the emotions to surface and release._

_Remember to breath and allow the emotions to subside. Your body is filling with light and love, healing all aspects of your being._

_Allow yourself to be healed. _

_In your mind repeat the following:_

_My body, mind, and spirit are healing now._

_Any past pain or distress is being released now._

_My health is returning to full health._

_It is now time, to release the past, and embrace the future._

_The power of love is healing me now, on all levels of my being. I am now healed and grateful for this healing._

Sam waits for a moment before quietly asking, "Can you repeat that last part? Please?"

Teal'c repeats the phrases twice more, and then goes silent. The silence goes on for a long time before Sam opens her eyes and moves to stand up.

"Are you well, Major Carter?" Her eyes seem unfocused, and her body is fully relaxed into exhaustion.

"I think I need to lie down," she mutters.

As he hoped, she's ready to sleep. And if he does this right, she'll be able to enjoy the deep sleep of a child.

"With your permission, Major Carter, I will remain here and keep watch for the night while you rest." The way a child sleeps knowing the protection of their parents.

"Okay," she agrees, half asleep. "Thank you, Teal'c."

"Sleep well, Major Carter." He returns his gaze to the candle as he hears her retire to her bedroom. Once he's certain she's asleep, he enters into Kelno'reem, repeating the healing words to himself.

*Please note that the meditation was not written by myself. I found it through an internet search. It was written by Brad Austen and can be found on this website: exploremeditation dot com slash healing-heart-meditation-script slash. I edited it slightly to better fit Teal'c.


	4. Part 4 - Sam

The Letter

Part 4 – Sam

Trigger warning, but nothing graphic.

_SGSGSG_

_Four Years Ago_

She's running on shock and instinct. She's been rescued, and they're sitting around the campfire.

_It wasn't a fair fight_, she insists to herself, smiling outwardly to her team_. My hands were tied. That stupid, stupid, stupid blue dress got in the way. _Anger at Turghan and what he did engulf her while shock keeps her from feeling the pain of it.

"Carter, you okay? Any injuries?" Colonel O'Neill asks her.

There's a code among military women that she's never agreed with until today. "I'm fine, sir." Because if she says otherwise, she will lose her place on the team – of that, she's sure. The Stargate program is too new, the military too old. Future women candidates might be kept off the SG teams. What she chooses to say in this moment, right or wrong, matters.

She also wants to keep her options open. If they encounter Turghan between now and gating back to Earth, she will fight him with her full abilities. The instinctual primal part of her plans to kill him, to avenge herself, her pride. But she knows she has to be careful, that it must be within the rules of combat. All that keeps her from falling apart is the idea that between now and the gate, he might come after them, and she might get her chance.

She does get her chance, and she can hardly believe it. She agrees to battle Turghan in a culturally accepted fight. She falters only once – when he pulls out the same knife he'd held to her throat during his assault. But she lets it fuel her. Once he's beneath her, and her own knife is to his throat this time, she comes back to herself just a bit. She can see the fear in his eyes even if it's only a flicker. Nya is pleading with her to stop. And she realizes that she wants to stop too. Because as much as she wants revenge, she's not a killer like him.

They leave the planet, and she can tell her team is pleased with the outcome. While a part of her regrets that Turghan is still breathing, she knows that if she has any chance of staying on the team, of staying in control during the briefing, of recovering from this with her sanity intact, then she needs to walk away now and put what happened behind her. What's done is done.

When they are back on Earth, and the briefing is done. When she's alone and retired to her quarters. The anger and defensiveness fade as the pain and nausea flood in. The shock wears off, and she finally allows herself to cry.

SGSGSG

_2 Days Ago_

"Major Carter, you're wanted in the gateroom," Walter tells her over the phone.

"Thank you, Sergeant, I'll be right there." She hangs up, curious. Obviously, it's not an emergency, or they would have told her so.

She walks briskly from her lab and up the steps. "What's going on? General?"

Walter and Hammond are standing there holding a piece of paper. The paper itself appears primitive. Yellowed and not the typical 8.5x11 that they use on base.

"Major Carter," General Hammond hands it to her. "This letter was sent to you from the people of Simarka. They're the tribal community you visited about four years ago back when SG1 was first formed."

"Yes sir… I recall." Her heart is pounding because how could she forget Simarka? What could they possibly want with her?

"It seems to be an apology of some sort. From when you were kidnapped. Seems they've been able to make some improvements to their way of life and their treatment of women since you were last there."

Sam swallows hard and tries to focus on the words in front of her before realizing that it's not in English. "Um, I'm having trouble reading it. I'm not familiar with their language."

"Of course, my apologies. Here is a copy of the translation. Dr. Jackson will do a more thorough job of it later, but I asked him to give us an idea of what it contains." He hands her a plain sheet of paper with Daniel's handwriting on it.

She doesn't really absorb what she reads, but she scans over the words, looking to see if they've revealed her secret. A secret only she and Turghan knew, but likely the other women there that day had guessed.

Her relief must be visible, but nobody seems to notice. "That's… very kind of them after all this time."

"I thought so too," Hammond smiles. "I'll let you return to your work, Major. I just wanted to let you know. It seems you've had a lasting impact on the people there."

"Thank you, General," she nods and leaves.

She returns to her lab, unable to stop her shaking hands.

_It's okay, just let it go. They sent a letter; it's got nothing in it; it's done. Don't let your mind go back there. Not after all this time._

She spends the rest of the day hiding out in her lab. Half the time expecting Daniel to rush in with a more thorough translation that condemns her. The other half assuring herself that no such thing will happen.

It's a relief when her shift is over – something she's never bothered to recognize before. But today is different, and all she wants is to get out of Cheyenne Mountain and back to her house. If the day is done, then the letter has been translated and filed away. It's done.

She is moments away from the elevator, when her stomach drops.

"Carter, hold up!"

SGSGSG

_Today_

After waking from a full night's sleep, sharing a delicious breakfast with Teal'c, and waving goodbye to him a short while later, Sam carries a warm cup of coffee to her back deck.

For the first time in a long time, she feels clear and light. The tension is erased from her body. It's like she can breathe properly for the first time in four years.

She sits back, relaxing in the coolness of the early morning.

When the letter arrived from Simarka, faded fear became a fierce vice once again, gripping her entire being. Memories that were stuffed away came back with breath-stealing clarity.

She'd almost made it through the day. But then Colonel O'Neill had called out her name, just as she was leaving. As soon as she heard his voice, she knew – _he knew_. The same way she knew what was going to happen when Turghan kissed her roughly and ordered that they be left alone.

But what seemed impossible two days ago, has now happened thanks to her friends.

The fear has faded away, along with the sound of tearing blue fabric and scattering beads.

The panic has eased, along with the feel of unwanted hands and a knife at her neck.

And the isolation has disappeared, along with the smell of sweat and leather.

Left in their place is the care of a friend reaching out, pushing past her defenses; the relief of another friend taking work from her shoulders; and the tenderness of yet another friend making sure her basic needs are met.

And now she feels like herself once more. Broken pieces put back together. The rhythm of her heartbeat normal again.

The letter had ripped the scab from a poorly healed wound, but her team has cleaned and dressed it in their way.

She feels healed.

SGSGSG

The End

SGSGSG


End file.
